In Dreams
by Daeleniel Shadowphyre
Summary: Late at night, a cynical writer and a musician talk.


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~ In Dreams ~

Dark_One Shadowphyre

(A/N: This is a short story, surprise, surprise! The reason it's so short is because I just wrote it all down, changed a few things, added very little....and decided I liked it that way. Daria and company belong exclusively to MTV. Enjoy.)

It was a cool night, with a light breeze blowing in from the east. The moon was barely a sliver in the sky, providing little light and not much visibility. But the young woman on the balcony didn't notice these or any other discomforts as she gazed out over the scene below, completely lost in her thoughts.

Behind her, a handsom young man stood in the doorway, watching her with mild concern. That she was awake at this hour was unusual, but to be outside, in the cold, in only her sleepwear was... discomforting.

"Hey," he said softly, trying not to startle her. She stiffened instinctively, but relaxed at the familiar, easy-going tones. She knew the voice well, and trusted the man it belonged to. She glanced back at him, sillouetted in the darkened doorway, and smiled slightly to herself.

"Hey," she replied, equally soft. She adjusted her round-rimmed glasses and shifted, making room for him to join her at the railing. With a small smile and a murmur of gratitude, the young man crossed to the railing and leaned against it, resting his weight on his crossed arms.

"Empty sea is really that interesting?" he asked suddenly, voice still very low. She blushed a little and he chuckled; she had a habbit of blushing around him and his best friend. Getting herself under control again, she gave a minute shrug of her shoulders, sending ripples across her back.

"Couldn't sleep," she murmured, as if it was nothing to be concered about. She didn't mention that every time she tried, visions of a certain young man - so very close to her - would invade her mind. They were pleasant thoughts, but not thoughts she wanted him to know about. Not yet. Not here. And not now.

She removed her glasses and turned her eyes back toward the rolling expanse of sea. Without her glasses, she could no longer see the wide open waters, but that hardly mattered. She hadn't really been looking at them in the first place, so lost in her thoughts had she been.

Her mind turned inward again, and she thought of the young musician for whom she felt such strong affection. It was frustrating. To be so close to him and have him unaware of her true feelings for him; not just as a friend, but a...

'Go on, say it,' she thought bitterly. 'Crush.' She couldn't complain, really. She was lucky to even be his friend, whatever else she wanted from the relationship nonwithstanding. But it still hurt, just a bit. She felt the tears building up, but tried blink them back, unwilling to show her struggle.

The young man beside her turned to look at her and smiled to himself. She was lost in thought again. She wasn't looking at the sea this time, since she wasn't wearing her glasses. The smile disappeared as he watched a drop of moisture slide from her eye and trace a wet trail down her cheek.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. His friend stiffened slightly at the touch, then relaxed a bit. Instead of pulling away with her usual, "Nothing's wrong," she sighed softly and turned her unseeing eyes toward the ground far below.

"Well," she began, hesitating for just a second. "I've got this...crush...on a certain young musician we both know very well. The problem is, this musician seems to see me only as a friend. I shouldn't complain - I'm lucky to be considered even that, but... it's frustrating. And it hurts."

"Whoa," he said dazedly, staring at his young friend with an awed expression. "I didn't... you never gave any indication...." He gave up and just looked at her. She turned her eyes in his direction, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

"Um, I...was talking about--" she began, but he stopped her by squeezing her shoulder gently. She didn't have to say it. He knew who she'd meant. Still, it was a lot to take in. That she felt this way... She was still only seventeen.... Maybe he could hint?

"Um, you know," he began. "Maybe this, er, "certain musician" feels the same way you're feeling right now. Like maybe he really cares about you, too, but doesn't want to say anything until you're eighteen. Maybe he's also a little afraid that you'll reject him." Her head snapped up.

"R-really?" she stammered. "You mean..." He nodded and smiled reassuringly. She gave him a tentative smile and he put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a half-hug. The tears that had threatened earlier slid down her cheeks and he wiped them away, holding her gently.

"Yes, really," he replied, then suddenly grinned. "I'd bet my guitar on it!" This earned him a watery chuckle and he gave her shoulders a quick sqeeze. A light gust of wind wafted in, raising chill-bumps. "Yeesh, it's cold out here! Come on, let's go back in."

"Alright," she replied as he let go of her shoulders, and she put her glasses back on. The two of them backed away from the railing and turned to go back inside. Thinking of something, she touched his arm. He paused and turned toward her.

"Yeah?" he asked. She smiled and reached up, giving her friend a hug. Startled, he hesitated, then returned the embrace. Nothing amorous, just a hug between friends. They let go and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Feel better?"

"Yeah," she said softly, with a faint smile touching her lips. "And... Well... Thanks." He grinned at her, absently pushing his out-of-control hair away from his eyes; the breeze had sprug up again and was moving in for the kill.

"No problem," came the easy reply. They both shivered involuntarily as the breeze picked up force. He nodded toward the door. "Come on. Inside before we both freeze." He opened the door and they went in. "Sleep well. 'Night, Daria," he murmured softly as they found their beds. Her reply was equally soft.

"Good night, Jesse."

(A/N2: Well, there you have it! A surprise ending, ala "The Last Word" by Invisigoth Gypsy. Weren't expecting that, were ya? Comments go to dark_one2813@yahoo.com. I'm not expecting you to comment, though. That's only for your convenience.)


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